


In Certain Towns

by bantha fodder (banthafodder)



Category: Frank Herbert's Children of Dune (2003)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-24
Updated: 2007-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banthafodder/pseuds/bantha%20fodder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He enters the House of Atreides as exiled Prince; as scholar; as Bene Gesserit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Certain Towns

**Author's Note:**

> with thanks to ness
> 
> Written for ilyena-sylph

 

 

He enters the House of Atreides as exiled Prince; as scholar; as Bene Gesserit.

"My brother will not continue our house," Ghanima says, and Farad'n knows what the Emperor and his sister will ask of him.

He hopes for more, and he waits.

It is just as it has always been.

**

"Do you want the men to see you crying?" his mother asks. 

"I don't care to be Emperor," he says. "I can do so much more from behind, unobserved."

"That is an excuse," she snaps, and slaps him.

Farad'n wakes, and the bed beside him is empty, as always.

**

Farad'n's lineage is long and distinguished, but as the days in Arrakeen trail by and he continues as scribe, it is his aunt for whom he is most grateful.

Farad'n waits, and he worries.

**

He leans against the wall; watches from the shadows as Leto pulls shut the door to Ghanima's rooms. He holds his breath, but to no avail: Leto turns and meets his gaze, waves.

"Farad'n," Leto says softly, his voice carrying across the corridor. "Don't hide in shadows. It strips pieces of you away, until all that is left is your mother."

Leto walks away; he does not turn to see the Farad'n's reaction.

**

When the sun is high, Farad'n descends into the depths of the palace.

"Oh," his mother says. "Come to see the face of your shame, hidden away?"

"The only shame is that I did not stop you earlier," he says, and she laughs. Her hair is messy, and short, and he observes a stain upon her skirt, something that she never would have tolerated on Salusa Secundus. Concern for his mother grows, her crimes aside, and he leans forward.

"Are they treating you well?" he asks softly.

"I am surprised they have not yet killed me," she replies.

"Mother," he scolds, "They would not-"

"They would," she says, and holds his gaze.

Farad'n looks away.

**

He is woken by a cry that echoes through the palace. Through his window, the moon shines bright, and it is some time before he realises the cries are wordless, made by an infant.

It is some time before he realises the crying child must be his.

He makes for Ghanima's rooms, but the Fedaykin bar the way. "It is my child!" Farad'n yells, as the weakness of his position is made abundantly clear by the desert warriors and their stony glares.

"There are two children," Irulan says as she emerges from Ghanima's rooms. She rubs her hands together, and in the well-lit hallway he sees the water glistening on her fingers.

"Twins," Farad'n breathes.

"Twins," Irulan repeats. "And never doubt that they are not yours, Nephew." She beckons him through the door, and he is unsure what she means until he sees Leto holding the children, his face still in concentration, and he sees Ghanima behind them, her blue-on-blue eyes bright.

He leaves before Leto can look at him; does not want to see the echo of conversation within the Emperor's eyes.

**

Still, he hopes.

**

"They have my hair," he says.

"Perhaps they will," Ghanima says. "We shall see."

"Do you still have a use for me?" Farad'n asks before he can pause for fear.

"You have been useful to us," she replies, "And we will not throw you out onto the streets."

 _Like Irulan_ , he thinks, and has to know the truth. "And perhaps, there has been love?" He looks up at her.

Ghanima shakes her head; smiles. "Oh, Farad'n," she says, and her laugh is dismissal; acknowledgement; pity.

He holds his breath until she leaves, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.

**

"Aunt," he says, wonders what it will be like to be an afterthought, perhaps not even footnote. Irulan rests her soft hand upon his head. She smiles, but it is a hollow smile, full of regret.

"Farad'n," she says softly, "You must be more than what the Atreides make you or you are no better than a sycophant, and you will dishonour your grandfather. Remember you were Corino, but you are Bene Gesserit now, and you will know no fear."

She kisses the top of his head; pushes him away.

Of course she knows.

**

Farad'n weeps.

END 

 


End file.
